


Perfume, Lipstick, Flowers

by GeeLiz_98



Category: Red Velvet (K-pop Band)
Genre: F/F, Fluff and Smut, Lesbian Sex, Male-Female Friendship, One Night Stands, Sexuality Crisis, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:20:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26827264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeeLiz_98/pseuds/GeeLiz_98
Summary: Irene finds herself in the bed of her one night stand, unsure of how she got there, unable to remember the night before and, most of all, confused as to why the person in her bed is a gorgeous, mysterious woman.
Relationships: Bae Joohyun | Irene/Kang Seulgi
Comments: 8
Kudos: 126





	Perfume, Lipstick, Flowers

**Author's Note:**

> Might need a bit of a spell check...that will come in time...

Irene’s eyes were so heavy that she was half convinced they had been glued shut in her sleep. Never in her life had she woken up in such a groggy state, so tired that she couldn’t even open her eyes. 

Bizarrely, she was still pretty lucid for someone who was on the precipice of very deep sleep and flashes of the night before flitted through her mind. 

She had been sloppy drunk. A kaleidoscopic mess of random images flew through the blackness, none of them meaning a single thing to Irene whose head was spinning with the remnants of alcohol. She was far more preoccupied with the worms of light forming patterns in the black of her eyelids. 

_ Crap,  _ was this the start of a migraine aura? She really should have known better than to go after that second bottle of white wine. It was disgusting, anyway and wine drunk truly was the worst. After the time she was sick in her grandmother’s toilet one Christmas after a therapeutic glass too many, she really should have known better. 

So as to make sure that she hadn’t inadvertently blinded herself through her over-indulgence, she slowly opened her eyes. Her eyelids had practically cemented together because she, very foolishly, hadn’t removed her mascara so the sticky black makeup had gone disgustingly gloopy. Her eyes were ridiculously dry and it took her a while to blink away the sticky goo floating in her vision. 

What she saw made her wish she hadn’t opened her eyes. 

In a panic, still frozen in place on the bed, she closed her eyes again, willing herself to fall asleep and wake up from her freakishly vivid dream. 

There was no way she had slept with some random guy the night before. That would be so horrifically out of character for her: men were for dating, kissing twice, and then dumping to allow her to focus on her demanding work life. They were  _ not  _ for one night stands. 

If that were the case, though, why on earth was she in a random bedroom? 

Desperately, she tried to fall asleep again, wondering if this was some sort of sleep paralysis. She had read about that somewhere, about people who have visions so vivid that they think they are real. Maybe that was what was happening! Sure, she had never experienced such a phenomenon even one time up to the age of 27 but anything is possible when you are wine drunk. 

Opting to think of happy things like the chocolate gateau her work colleague brought to the office the day before, the musical collection of Britney Spears, and the last time she wasn’t hungover and losing her mine, Irene settled into the covers once more. 

Her plans were scuppered, sadly, when she felt the strange man beside her begin to turn over in what she hoped and prayed to every deity going was a deep sleep. Holding her breath, she listened out for any signs that the man was awake. Like hastened breathing, yawning, coughing...she had no idea how to tell if he was awake

The first sign of life came when she felt a warm hand rest on her shoulder blade. Her  _ bare  _ shoulder blade. 

Although nudity is often a given where sex is involved, she had sincerely hoped she had at least kept herself covered. After jostling around for a second, as subtle as possible, she came to the truly daunting realisation that she was utterly naked, not a piece of cloth in sight. 

Another jolt of panic shot through her when arms began to snake around her middle, reaching around to her stomach where hands clasped together, resting there, massaging gentle circles into the slight podge Irene had developed after her night of luxury. 

As careful not to move as possible, Irene looked down to the hands. They were tiny and the nails were perfectly manicured, painted a baby pink colour but not so sharp and pointy as to cause discomfort as they brushed over Irene’s tingling skin. 

Since when did paralysis demons get manicures? Since when did men get manicures?

Admittedly, some men get manicures but Irene was surprised by herself, never did she imagine she would go for a man who was bisexual or something like that. Not that she minded, of course, it was simply unlikely given the men she knew and spent time with. Drunk Irene was obviously very free-thinking and sober Irene felt a little smug at that thought. 

“I know you're awake,” the person holding her said, their mouth so close to Irene’s back that the sound of it sent vibrations through her bones, “I can hear your breathing getting faster. And you haven’t stopped fidgeting for 10 minutes…”

Caught, Irene sighed in defeat. She really needed to work on her acting skills. Not that they would have many benefits in her role as an interior designer but she may make a habit of this kind of salacious escapade. 

“I can also hear you sighing,” her bed companion tittered. Soft lips kissed a line along Irene’s right shoulder blade in a way that made her shiver. 

The man’s voice was so soft and gentle. A little unusually high pitched but Irene wasn’t one to pass judgement. Finally deciding to give in and turn around, concluding that she was very much awake and very much caught, Irene rolled over in the loose hold on her waist. 

And what she saw when she landed on her opposite side nearly made her choke on her own spit. 

This was no man. Oh no. She wasn’t in bed with a man. This was a woman. A woman. She was in bed with a woman. A whole woman with a small face, pretty eyes, long black hair, two star-shaped earrings, a matching silver chain, boobs. Boobs? Boobs. 

“Boobs.”

The girl looked Irene as though she had gone mad, quickly glancing down towards her breasts before staring back at Irene in confusion. 

“Erm...yeah,” she nodded slowly, utterly perplexed, feeling her breasts mindlessly because she could. Because she was a woman and she had them, “boobs...you also have...boobs.”

Irene nodded seriously, eyes blown wide in shock, not sure where to look. The bedsheet was covering the rest of their bodies - thank goodness because Irene wasn’t sure she could cope with seeing a-

“Are you okay, babe?” The girl tentatively reached her hand across to tuck a stray piece of hair behind Irene’s ear, an action which made Irene shiver involuntarily. But it was strangely relaxing. She didn’t like it. 

“I-” Irene grabbed onto the girl’s hand and stopped her from moving it, “I don’t understand.”

The girl sighed and retracted her hand, rubbing her forehead with a defeated look in her eyes, “what don’t you understand?”   
  


Everything. Irene didn’t understand a single thing. Why was she in bed, naked with this woman? There had to be a reasonable explanation for this. 

The woman groaned and clambered to sit up in bed, the sheet falling slightly to expose her bare backside but she quickly returned it to cover her bottom half as she rested against the headboard. Irene followed but kept the covers pulled up to her armpits. 

“Let me spell it out for you,” the woman started, her voice sounding dejected and tired all of a sudden, “you and your friends came into the gay bar I was at with  _ my  _ friends. You were drunk but ‘not that drunk’ - or so you claimed-”

Irene already knew that had been a horrible lie.

“I was also drunk. But I still had my wits about me because I’m an adult with self-control,” she glared at Irene in annoyance. Irene’s blood ran cold, feeling strangely guilty, “we danced. You kissed me. I asked if you wanted to come back to mine. You said yes. Ten times. And thanked me multiple more times when we got here so don’t-” she pointed an accusatory finger at Irene before giving up. 

Unable to block the feeling of guilt she felt after seemingly misleading this woman, Irene hung her head in shame. 

“And we had sex?” 

The woman nodded. 

“Oh.” Irene wasn’t entirely sure what to make of that if she was quite honest. All she knew was that this had never happened before, she was really confused, and her head really hurt. She was close to tears when she muttered, “I think...I think I need to go.” 

The other woman looked disappointed but she didn’t make any attempt to stop Irene. She simply nodded and hopped out of the bed. 

She padded across the room, naked but with her back to Irene, and searched around on the floor for a pair of boxer shorts and threw on a crumpled t-shirt. Irene was too upset to even look at the sad look in her eyes. 

“You need a lift home?” The woman reached to her wrist to pull a hair bobble through her thick black hair and tied it up into a high ponytail. 

“No, thank you,” Irene shook her head and clumsily made her way to the pile of her clothes on the floor, not wanting to drop the sheet.

“Okay. No worries,” the woman sheepishly headed to the door, “I’ll let you get ready then.”

  
  


In an attempt to look no more pathetic than she felt, Irene walked out into the apartment with her head held high, deciding that what had happened was awkward and uncomfortable but she had to do the right thing now. 

When she stepped out of the bedroom, she entered a very beautiful apartment. To the pastel pink walls and white leather sofas, everything was pristine and everything clearly had its place. 

The woman stood at a white marble kitchen island messing around on her phone and only looked up when Irene cleared her throat. 

“Your apartment is nice,” she did a full 360 turn, admiring the decor, “do you live here alone? It must have cost a lot!” 

She smacked a hand across her mouth and turned beet red, hardly believing that she’s been so rude, first of all.

“Sorry,” she rushed out, “I’m an interior designer so I know about this kind of thing and what I meant to say was, your home is very beautiful and I just thought you-” 

“Don’t even worry about it,” the woman chipped in, “I know what you meant,” she looked around the room with a pensive look, “I do live here alone. I’m a lawyer so I guess...I guess I’m lucky in that department.” 

All Irene could do was nod in enthusiastic agreement; this woman sure was lucky! And she must have been a good lawyer if the Tiffany & Co. chandelier was anything to go by. Irene installed that kind of thing for a living and even she had lampshades she bought from a charity shop. 

Concluding that there was very little else for them both to say, Irene cleared her throat and clasped her hands in front of herself awkwardly. How was she supposed to end this? Women are surely more emotionally dependent than men. Should she say thank you? Should she offer her number? Her company card?

“I really like your hair,” she went for instead, internally scolding herself for saying something so out of place and ridiculous, “what conditioner do you use?”

The woman smiled at her, kindly, probably sensing the awkwardness, “I don’t know, honestly. I had a haircut yesterday so…”

“Ah. Well, it’s nice anyway.”

She thanked Irene for the compliment, regardless and made sure that she had all of her things, including her somehow-broken heels. Irene had no idea how she would get home when one shoe was an inch shorter than the other. 

Luckily, she didn’t have to worry about it because, before she could even step into the shoes before a pair of white trainers were thrust in front of her.

“They don’t match your little black dress situation but,” the woman shrugged, “but they’ll do.”

Irene took the shoes, tentative, shy that she had to accept the gesture.

“Thank you. I…” she wondered if she should say anything else before she stepped out into the stairwell and opted for a simple, “nice to meet you.”

  
  
  


For the second time that day, Irene was dragged out of a deep sleep by the shock of her life. 

“Bae Joohyun, wake the hell up!” A shrill voice cried, banging ruthlessly on the door, “what the fuck are you doing in bed!?”

Irene groaned in frustration, no longer hungover, but desperately in need of more sleep. If she was given half the chance, she would definitely murder her housemate in her sleep. 

“What!?” She yelled back, thrashing about in bed.

The door to her bedroom flung open, revealing an irate Joy who looked like she had recently returned home from a coffee run if the takeaway cups in her hand were anything to go by. 

“You look like shit.”

Irene scoffed in offence, chucking a pillow across the room while still making sure that she didn’t hit what she assumed was a coffee for her. 

“What have I told you about calling me Joohyun?” She chastised her friend, “you make me feel like I still live with my mother!”

All of the irritation in the world would fail to sway Joy when she was in a good mood so she only shrugged, not really interested in what her friend wanted or didn’t want to be called. She handed over a paper cup of fresh coffee and plonked herself down on the bed with wide eyes.

“Well you clearly need a mother, right now,” Joy said with a push to her friend’s shoulder, unperturbed when Irene pushed her hand away, “where were you last night?”

“Don’t want to talk about it.”

Her friend rolled her eyes and took a sip of coffee, preparing for a long, arduous conversation. 

“You think I’m giving you a choice?” 

No. Irene knew she had no choice but her head was such a mess. What was she supposed to say? She had gotten so drunk that she had mistaken a woman for a man and woke up in her bed, naked and with one more notch in her bedpost than she intended? How could she explain that to her friend? 

To make the situation even worse, as sobriety crept back in, Irene began to remember more and more of the night before. She had visions of kissing the girl, visions so vivid that she could practically feel the ghost of her lips. She had noticed lipstick on her bra of a colour she didn’t even own and her clothes smelled like Black Opium when Irene had always been more of a Daisy girl. 

The only thing she didn’t remember so clearly was the actual sex. She knew it must have been good because she could still feel the remnants of the arousal in her blood. With every memory that returned to her, another hand on another part of her body, a mouth somewhere a mouth had never been before, a shiver shot through her whole body.

She had liked it. She had wanted it, she had asked for it, and she had liked it. 

So, where did that leave her?

“Irene,” Joy spoke softly, sensing her friend’s stressed demeanour. She crawled under the bedsheets with Irene, still fully clothed, and leaned a comforting head on Irene’s tense shoulders, “shall I tell you what I already know?”

That might help, Irene thought. If Joy asked her questions, maybe Irene wouldn’t have to explain herself. Her friend could fill in the gaps.

“I spoke to Kibum this morning when you didn’t come home,” Joy explained. Kibum was their joint friend and colleague of Irene. He was the one who had dragged Irene into the gay bar in the first place and Irene didn’t know whether to thank him for leading her to a journey of self-discovery or whether she should smack him.

“What did he say?” 

“Well,” Joy took another long sip of coffee and straightened out Irene’s unbrushed hair, “he said that you had gone home with someone but - because he’s a nice, polite and irritatingly moral boy - he wouldn’t tell me who. Just that you were fine and would be home in the morning.”

Oh. Kibum hadn’t told Joy very much at all. Irene was sort of grateful for that, after all, she was in half a mind to lie and avoid all of the stress and questions and inner turmoil. But she couldn’t do that. She needed to confide in her friend. 

“And I would be happy to leave it at that, Irene but...whose shoes are those in the hall? Is there something you want to tell me,” she waved her hands in front of herself, rushing to add, “you don’t have to, obviously. I’m worried about you and you know I won’t t-” 

“I slept with a girl,” Irene mumbled, picking at her cuticles from the all-consuming anxiety, “I went home with a girl and we had sex.”

“And is that...okay? Are we happy with that?”

Irene had absolutely no idea. Once she was over the shock of it all, she really wasn’t horrified or disgusted. 

“I...I’m not sure,” was as honest as she could be, “I think I’m okay...but I’m really confused, Joy. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“Maybe you weren’t,” Joy received a raised eyebrow in reply, “what I mean is...maybe you do too much thinking. Maybe that’s what has been holding you back. As soon as you got a bit pissed and lost your inhibitions, it didn’t take long for a pretty girl to take hold over you...Have...have you ever thought that you might like girls before?”

The million-dollar question. Irene had no idea. She had never even thought about it once. She barely had the time to think about dating and she only surrendered to going for a meal or coffee date with a guy when she had a break from work. She never questioned why she did it or whether or not there was an alternative she’d prefer more. 

Girls were always pretty, sure. Their silky hair and small faces and beautiful bodies of every kind, tall girls and short girls, girly girls and tomboys and anything in between. Irene admired girls. She admired Joy. She could look at Joy’s plump lips all day long because she was pretty. 

Don’t all girls find girls pretty? It doesn’t take a genius to see a woman in a summer dress with legs for days and think that they are staring at the genius of nature. Men were simply...men. They were kind and accommodating when Irene hung from their arms but they weren’t pretty. In a room of men, the woman would always stand out. Because it is hard to ignore the sweet smell of their perfume, the song of their laughter, their presence. 

“I...I…” Irene fought a battle within herself, so ferocious and earth-shattering that she felt short of breath, “I think I might have like girls before...I...I didn’t realise but-”

Before she could finish her sentence, Joy had snatched away her now-freezing cup of coffee and pulled her into a bone-crushingly strong hug. She squeezed her tightly, stroked her hair and offered words of reassurance. 

“Oh, Irene,” she whispered gently as anything, “that’s so great. I’m happy for you and I’m proud of you.”

The tears fell out of nowhere. Irene didn’t even know she was holding them in but they came with full force. She sniffed and the sobs racked her whole body. But Joy held her tightly until they stopped, until Irene felt full and lighter at the same time. They sat there for a long time, not saying a word, only processing what they had spoken about. Irene processed the idea of liking women, something that was hanging on the precipice of her mind for a long, long time. Her feelings towards women had grown to the point where they needed to be known, and her emotions broke the banks of her mind. All she had needed was the final push.

“Are you okay, my lovely?” Joy tried to wear a smile but she was worried about her friend. 

“I think so...I...what do I do now?”

“Erm...I could phone Kibum if you want?” Joy suggested, not sure what the protocol was when your friend comes out to both themselves and you at the same time, “he knows about...this kind of thing.”

That was an option, she supposed. But she wasn’t really sure if she wanted to talk to her guy friend about the sex she had last night. At some point in the future, Irene was certain to have plenty of questions but there were more pressing matters. 

And Joy knew precisely what they were through her friendship telepathy skills. 

“What was she like?” Joy asked with a sly smirk, “was she gorgeous? Was she sexy? Oooh I bet she was sexy, wasn’t she?”

Irene blushed from her cheeks to the back of her neck. In the panic of the morning, she hadn’t had that much time to think about how pretty the other woman was. To tell the truth, she was an otherworldly kind of gorgeous and Irene couldn’t believe she had struck so lucky. All by accident! 

Her friend watched closely as her blush grew and grew, squealing in excitement for her friend and clapping like a seal, “Oh my GOD! She _was_ gorgeous! Please tell me you got her number! What is her name? Tell me, tell me, tell me.”

Oh.

And she had hit another snag. She didn’t even ask for her name. She had woken up naked cuddling with this woman and never even bothered to ask her name. 

“Bae Joohyun! No fucking way! You are joking me, right now! You didn’t ask her name!?”

“No! I was in such a shock and in such a rush that I forgot,” Irene felt the tears start to creep back in. Of course, in the state she had been in, not once did she consider that she may want to speak to this woman again. And if the memory of the sadness in the woman’s eyes when Irene practically spat in her face after such a bombshell, she wasn’t so happy to see Irene go either. 

“Okay, okay,” Joy tried to reassure her friend despite feeling a little out of depth, “we’ll fix this. I...I’m ringing Kibum!” 

  
  


Within the hour, Irene was sitting in the same position on her bed between her two best friends. As soon as Kibum had put the phone down, he had made his way over to the apartment, unquestioning in his desire to help rectify the mess Irene had made. 

He didn’t refrain from saying something scathing about “lesbians and their attachment issues” beforehand, though and Irene couldn’t even begin to imagine what that was supposed to mean.

They sat in a row with Kibum balancing a computer in his lap. 

“So, what can you tell me about her?” He asked, fingers at the ready to start scouring the net. 

“Well,” Irene focused hard on her memories, “she was pretty-”

“Yeah, yeah, got that,” Kibum insisted, “pretty, nice eyes, toned ass, nice hair. Anything else?”

“She had a nice apartment...a Tiffany chandelier…”

Both of Irene’s friends offered one another a side glance, speaking without words. 

“So she’s rich…”

“Yeah sure but, Key, how is that going to help me find her!?” Irene whined, defeated already, “loads of people are rich!” 

Joy reached behind Kibum’s back to awkwardly massage Irene’s shoulders. 

“No, you’re right,” Kibum turned to face Irene with a faux sad puppy dog face before flicking her on the forehead, “but rich people have jobs!”

The excitement was so overwhelming that Irene felt the need to bounce onto her knees, shaking everyone else on the bed. 

“Ah-ha! She’s a lawyer!” 

  
  
  


“Oh my God, babe,” Joy joined in the bouncing, holding onto you Irene’s hands, “you had sex with a lawyer! That’s so fancy!” 

“Excuse me Madame Sooyoung could you sit the fuck down? It’s not  _ you  _ having your lesbian awakening and you’re more excited than her,” he jabbed a thumb in Irene’s direction, “we’ve all fucked a lawyer, honey.”

“No, we-” 

Joy was about to dispute the fact but was distracted when Kibum began to frantically type on the keyboard, clicking around at quick-fire speed. 

“Got her,” he turned the laptop to face Irene and, lo and behold, there she was, “Kang Seulgi QC. You’re right she’s hot as hell.”

It really was her. In her profile picture on the Facebook account, she didn’t have the black hair Irene had seen that morning, instead sporting a bleach blonde look, but she was still the same woman. Even better, she was clearly photographed at a fancy event if the expensive trouser suit and glass of champagne in her hands was anything to go by. 

“How the hell did you do that?” 

“I told you,” Kibum said nonchalant as ever, “we’ve all fucked a lawyer. And I happen to have bedded a lawyer who is the chair of an LGBT+ law society and your lesbian friend is a member.”

Once again, he clicked some buttons and flipped the screen around to show another profile. Another lawyer called Jonghyun, posing in his profile with Seulgi of all people. 

“Oh wow, Miss Marple,” Joy deadpanned, “you didn’t do shit did you, Kim Kibum? Because Seulgi knows your secret boyfriend.”

“He’s not my bo-” 

“Guys! Who cares?” Irene couldn’t help but smile, “we’ve found her!” 

Her friends couldn’t help but stop arguing to smile proudly at Irene, both feeling genuinely happy for her. 

“So, we’re sending her a message then?” Joy and Kibum both pored over the screen, ready to type. 

“What?” Irene went white as a sheet, “what for?”

“So you can meet up with her, silly!” Joy said as though it were obvious. After all, why would they go through all of that trouble only to leave the dust to settle? 

“You can’t say you’ve just had sex with a hot, rich, lesbian lawyer and then refuse to message her,” Kibum added slightly more sternly. And he did have a point. 

“I suppose so,” Irene considered her options for a minute before coming to the conclusion that she really couldn’t let this opportunity pass when it had fallen right into her lap, “ah what the hell?! Message her!” 

  
  


It was 11:57 and Irene was starting to get antsy. 

During their brief back and forth, her and Seulgi had agreed to meet at 12:00 and Irene, being as anxious as she was, had made sure to be there 15 minutes early. She had arrived at the coffee shop for too early and was now sitting alone, like a lemon, sipping at a caffeinated drink which only made her feel way worse. 

Was Seulgi even coming? Had she been stood up? Surely not. Seulgi had seemed friendly in her messages, surprised but friendly, and had even been the one to suggest they meet up and talk things over. Irene wasn’t sure if that was a sign that Seulgi liked her or if meeting up with a one night stand was normal lesbian protocol. When Joy had asked Kibum that question, he rolled his eyes and refused to answer the question. 

When all hope was almost lost, the bell over the shop door twinkled and Seulgi walked in. Her hair had been blown about by the wind and she looked like she had been rushing. Despite this, as soon as she spotted Irene sitting alone at a table she smiled a dazzling smile and bounded over. 

“Hi! I’m so sorry,” she apologised, dropping her coat over the back of the chair, and pulling her purse from her handbag, “I was in court for 9am and we got held up. I won’t keep you waiting much longer.”

Irene smiled back, hoping and praying that she looked mostly sane (her cheeks felt so forced and her eyes were twitching so much that she doubted it) and waited. 

True to her word, Seulgi didn’t take long and promptly returned to the table with a coffee for her and two chocolate cupcakes. 

“I hope you like chocolate chips,” she said as she pushed one cake over to Irene, “they didn’t have anything else.”

“Oh, thank you. You didn’t have to…”   
  


“Don’t even mention it. I wanted to say sorry for scaring the life out of you the other day, anyway,” she looked sheepish, “I do feel a bit bad about it.”

Irene shook her head, “no, don’t feel sorry. I’m the one who should be sorry for ditching you like that. See, I’ve never…”

“Never had sex with a girl before?” Seulgi wasn’t judgemental or irritated when she asked the question, more concerned than anything. “I sort of guessed.”

It would be an outright lie to say that Irene wasn’t embarrassed but she wasn’t too shocked by that revelation either. Even fully sober and after having a week to think about it Irene had no idea what she was doing. She had thought of googling it but what would she even google? She couldn’t ask Joy because, as enthusiastic as she was, she would be none the wiser. Kibum would be happy to help but Irene would not be happy to ask.

“That’s embarrassing…”

Seulgi’s eyebrows furrowed, “why?”

“Well, you know,” Irene gesticulated madly, flapping her hands about until Seulgi clasped onto them and held them still on the table. 

“I do know. And it’s not embarrassing. Genuinely.”

Irene nodded but was still unsure whether she actually believed that. Why would an adult woman, a professional lesbian at that, waste time with a woman who had barely even looked at her own vagina? 

Which was something Irene didn’t want to say out loud. And something Seulgi found outrageously funny.

“Professional lesbian? I’m putting that on my resume for sure.”

“Oh my God!” Irene cried through her own laughter, “I can’t do anything right!” 

“Yes, you can,” Seugli was still holding onto her hands and turned them over on the table, delicately massaging Irene’s palm with her thumb, “you were right to message me. I am being honest when I say this, Irene: I really had fun that night. I know it was a whole crazy bicurious homoerotic adventure for you-” Irene tried to chip in, tried to insist that she liked Seulgi back, “I know what you’re going to say and I get it. The whole ‘liking girls’ thing is real but it was a shock…”

“A little bit…”   
  


Seulgi chuckled, “but you came back. You didn’t leave me wondering what I had done wrong. Even while you were probably out of your mind, you thought of me. You’d be surprised how many girls never ever come back…”

That made Irene feel slightly more guilty than she had felt before. 

“I’m sorry for leaving you. Really.” 

“I know you are, Irene,” Seulgi squeezed her hands again, “and, honestly, I was a bit pissed the other day. Mainly at  _ myself  _ for putting myself in an awkward position but...it’s all good now. We can start where we finished. Where was that exactly?” 

That comment made Irene blush for a whole other reason as she envisioned their naked bodies in bed together. 

“In bed…”

“And you’re okay with that?” 

Her natural instinct was to say no. Waking up in Seulgi’s bed had been such a bizarre and unexpected occurrence that it just may have changed the course of her life forever. But as she sat in front of her like this, observing her with fresh eyes, she couldn’t help but feel as though that didn’t matter. The warm glow in her chest led her to believe she could sit here, like this, with Seulgi all day long. She was even more gorgeous like this. In person. Smiling at her. 

“I think I’m more than fine with that…” Irene contemplated what she would say next, whether or not she should be bold, “actually…”

The other woman watched her closely, egging her on with her eyes, hoping she would say something to move the situation along. To move away from the tense reconciliation phase. 

“If it’s okay with you...I’d like to try again. Sober this time.” 

  
  


Thankfully for Irene who was so eager to get back to Seulgi’s apartment, the lawyer had a car. A very nice one with heated leather seats which was a blessing to Irene who had worn a maxi skirt with nothing to keep her warm. 

They didn’t say very much but they didn’t really have the chance given that Seulgi’s apartment block was so close by.

The entire journey in the car and on foot up to Seulgi’s apartment was a blur and Irene was unable to focus on anything other than the events that would surely follow. She desperately tried to remember what they had done exactly the last time but could only draw blanks. She really was going into this blind. 

It seemed that Seulgi could sense her stress as she fumbled around with her laces at the door, unable to remove her tennis shoes from the way her fingers were trembling. 

Seulgi knelt down to help her, in amusement at Irene’s struggle, but chivalrous all the same. 

“Sorry, I’m a bit nervous.” 

“Don’t be,” Seulgi insisted, “after all, we’ve done this before”

The cheeky wink she threw before heading off to her room wasn't unmissed by Irene.

By the time they reached Seulgi’s bedroom, the air was charged with electricity. They were both shivering with the anticipation, more than ready to fall into the bed together. 

Irene stood in the corner of the room with her arms hanging awkwardly by her side. She wasn’t entirely sure what to do and was eagerly awaiting instruction. 

“You can sit on the bed, you know?”

Feeling a little silly, Irene ran her hands through her hair and laughed a little out of place. But she sat down all the same. The bed felt completely different the second time around. She felt like she belonged there somewhat. 

“Would you prefer music or no music?” 

Irene wasn’t sure because no one she had been with in the past had bothered to ask her. They either played music for their own benefit or they didn’t. 

“Music, maybe? It might help me relax.”   
  


The other woman obliged right away but didn’t hasten to add, “there’s no need to feel tense. I’ll sort that out for you in no time.”   
  


The thrill that jolted in Irene’s stomach was unmistakable. This was happening. It was really happening. 

It wasn’t long before both women were sitting next to one another on the bed. 

“Is it okay if I kiss you now?” 

Irene took a deep breath, preparing herself. It was more than okay but Irene wasn’t certain she wouldn’t spontaneously combust as soon as lips met lips. 

Before doing anything else, Seulgi tucked a stray piece of Irene’s hair behind her ear, drawing her finger over Irene’s small daisy-shaped earrings. 

Then she took the plunge. The two women made brief eye-contact before their lips met. The kiss was tender with very little force behind it but it lit a flame in Irene. Her heart began to clench from the sensation, her blood rushing about, feeling so light and weightless as she allowed the feeling of affection and lust to take over her body. 

Unsure what to do with her hands, she opted to comb through Seulgi’s hair, glad to feel that her hair was even softer and nice-smelling than it looked. Irene’s nose filled with the scent of fruity shampoo, perfume, and a hint of foundation powder. Something that would only smell of anything right up close. 

At the sensation of fingers dragging through her hair, Seulgi literally purred. Irene wasn’t far behind her with a quiet gasping moan. The feeling of arousal was starting to take over her body and she swore that blood was rushing downwards in a way that she had really experienced so intensely before. 

Without a word, Seulgi moved her hands around to Irene’s back, drawing her hair over one shoulder, reaching to seek out the zip to her dress. She hesitated for a second until Irene groaned impatiently. That made Seulgi giggle into Irene’s mouth but she was happy to oblige. 

As the soft silky dress fell from Irene’s shoulders, both women worked together to pull the sleeves off, allowing the dress to pool around Irene’s waist. Now that Irene’s skin was exposed, Seulgi rested warm hands around Irene’s waist and Irene rested her own on top. 

“What should we do now?” Seulgi breathed into Irene’s mouth, a hint of chocolate and coffee still lingering on her breath. 

In a moment of madness, Irene used the full strength of her arms to pull herself down onto her back, dragging Seulgi on top of her, accidentally knocking the wind out of her.

“Okay then,” Seulgi couldn’t help the way she laughed, “message received.”

They returned to kissing for a moment. Then Irene decided that she didn’t want to be the only one in her underwear anymore. She kicked her dress off of her bottom half, awkwardly lifting her backside to pull it out from under her. Then she moved to undo Seulgi’s buttons. 

“Why do you have so many  _ buttons?”  _ She whined, angrily fiddling with each tiny button. 

“Rip it.”

“Huh?”

“Just rip it.”

Irene contemplated for a second, feeling morally against tearing the buttons off a very expensive shirt but couldn’t wait any longer. So she ripped the shirt buttons apart and threw the shirt onto the ground. The ecstatic laugh that ripped out of her was unintentional. 

“That was so sexy,” she declared. 

“Did it turn you on, Irene?”

“I’ve been turned on for this whole time and I am about to go crazy in a minute if we don’t get a move on.”

With a raised eyebrow, Seulgi jumped from her spot on the bed so that she could remove her trousers. Soon enough, she was standing next to the bed in nothing but a lacy black bra and matching black panties. 

“Oh wow.” Irene was glad that the view was just as amazing as it had been the first time around. If not even better. 

Reluctant to waste another second, Seulgi climbed into bed next to Irene and turned her head with her fingers, bringing her in for another kiss. Once again, Irene became swept up by the emotions and sensations taking over her body. 

That was until she felt a hand resting on top of her panties. 

“Is this okay?” 

The feelings of anxiety returned but they were trumped by the feeling of anticipation Irene felt as the fingers began to daintily move up and down, dragging over her labia through the cotton underwear. 

Irene nodded tentatively. 

This was all the sign Seulgi needed to begin pressing down a little harder. She glanced down to look at what she was doing before returning her gaze to Irene’s own.

“Pink panties?”

“Yeah. Of course. It’s my favourite.” 

This left Seulgi thoroughly charmed and she couldn’t help but give Irene another soft peck on the lips. 

At first, Irene didn’t think that Seulgi’s actions were doing very much. The area she was rhythmically moving her fingers up and down was sensitive, certainly, but it wasn’t providing much...arousal at all. It felt as though she were scratching a good itch: fine but nothing amazing. 

“Is it supposed to feel like something is happening?”

There came no reply before Seulgi removed her hand briefly, only to push it underneath Irene’s panties, finally making contact with skin. 

She moved her finger over the protruding labia a few more times before they naturally parted, allowing her to access the clitoris which was strangely larger than Irene remembered.

With small circular motions, Seulgi rubbed over the tiny bump as it began to wake up, or that’s how Irene saw it. It felt a bit weird at first because she had never really felt it before. She had tried a bit herself but had never felt the urge or had the motivation to take it past the initial...rubbing stage. But this felt different. 

As if out of nowhere, Irene began to feel the heat growing in her loins and she felt herself start to gasp as her arousal grew. She could finally feel herself getting very, very turned on. 

“Is something happening now?” Seulgi was cheeky. She knew it was because she could see the crease of Irene’s eyebrows and she began to spin her fingers faster, pressing down a little harder. 

“Y-yes...ah ah. Seulgi, ah. Keep doing that. Please.” 

Her entire body was beginning to grow hot and as she drew her knees up to her chest absentmindedly, she felt beads of sweat dripping down the backs of her thighs. 

“I have a better idea.” 

Out of nowhere, Seulgi removed her hands away and moved from her spot by Irene’s side altogether. 

“What are you doing?” 

Once again, no reply as Seulgi crawled to sit in front of Irene, holding onto her knees in their raised position. Then she dipped her head in between Irene’s legs and replaced her fingers with her mouth. 

The moan that Irene let out was evidence enough of how good it felt. If she had thought she was hot and bothered before, she was even more turned on now. She could have sworn she could feel arousal right down to the tips of her toes as they curled up against her will. 

The warmth of Seulgi’s mouth combined with the blood rushing down south and the feeling of her tongue working its magic was sending Irene closer and closer to the edge. She could hardly believe it but she could have sworn she was about to have a full-blown orgasm. She wasn’t even sure that she had experienced one in her life but the way the pressure began to build up as Seulgi licked and sucked in all of the right places was sure to get her there. 

In less than fifteen minutes no less. Perhaps it was a miracle. 

“Ah, ah, Seulgi,” she gasped out, already feeling her muscles begin to tense in preparation for her fall, “I think...I think I’m going to come.” The excitement in her voice, as embarrassing as it may have been, was unavoidable. She couldn’t wait. 

To make the whole experience even better, Seulgi introduced her fingers back into the mix, pushing them inside her wet and more relaxed vagina, and Irene could have sworn that she was finding places that hadn’t existed before to touch, pushing Irene closer and closer and closer and…

“Ah! AH!” She couldn’t help but moan, each one interrupted by the way she rocked her hips into Seulgi’s mouth and digits.

When her orgasm came, reaching every part of her body, rolling through her and then and again and again to the point where she was convinced it wouldn’t stop, she felt like she was screaming but she was most likely spewing garbled nonsense. 

Had she not run out of energy and flopped down onto the bed like an unstuffed ragdoll, Irene was certain she could have kept coming for at least a little while more.

“Thank you so, so much,” was all she could think to say, “that was so amazing! You are magical. Please kiss me.” 

The other woman had grabbed onto her shirt to wipe off...whatever was on her hands and face (which made Irene grimace. She would get used to it. If Seulgi would let her…)

They kissed again as Irene felt herself fall down from her high into contentment, happily cuddling and kissing, revelling in the warmth glowing within her. 

Then she had a wild thought. 

“Seulgi,” she looked directly into her eyes, “can we be girlfriends.”

“I-”   
  


“I know it’s fast and I know I only realised I liked girls like...this week but,” she paused for breath, not bothering to acknowledge Seulgi’s smug face, “you are so amazing that you made me realise...a lot of things about myself and I know it’s a bit scary - well I think it’s a bit scary - but I  _ promise  _ I genuinely like you and I want to kiss you all the time and hug you naked and-” 

She was cut off in her ramblings by a kiss. She relaxed into it, the tension she didn’t even realise she was holding leaving her body as her muscles turned to jelly.

“I would love to be your girlfriend,” Seulgi said and Irene could hardly believe it, almost squeaking with surprise. 

“But.”

Irene froze. 

“On the condition that I get to teach you to do what I just did...within the next 5 minutes because...you’re not leaving me hanging.”

There wasn’t a parallel universe in which Irene would so no to that condition. But first, she needed another kiss. And she needed to stroke her fingers through Seulgi’s hair, naked cuddling, for a little while longer.   
  


**Author's Note:**

> I've never written wlw before which is ridiculous because...I am one xD but this was fun! It's nothing serious, just me having a bit of a play around. But if you have made it this far, regardless, hope you enjoyed! 
> 
> Follow me on twitter @yeoloutof10 or just go there to find my other stuff if you want. 
> 
> Most importantly, hope you are well! Take care and stay safe!


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